


Mail Order Bride

by Peeta4Ever



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Mail Order Brides
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 00:55:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21788716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peeta4Ever/pseuds/Peeta4Ever
Summary: AU - no hunger games. This is the wild west Paneam style.Wanted: Mail Order BrideNot afraid of hard work or cripples.Must like breadPreferably under 30.That was all Haymitch had bothered to write.
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen & Peeta Mellark, Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 73
Kudos: 274





	1. The Ad

Wanted: Mail Order Bride 

Not afraid of hard work or cripples. 

Must like bread. 

Preferably under 30. 

That was all Haymitch had bothered to write. 

Peeta could have rung the drunkards neck for it! Better yet, he should ring his own neck for trusting that sort of thing to another person- specifically his kooky, alcoholic neighbour, instead of going down to the post office and writing the ad himself. 

His only defense was it had been raining for 3 days and the sharp pain in his leg made it nearly impossible to sit behind the counter and knead bread, let alone trek the half mile down the hole-ridden lane to the general store.

It was precisely for this reason he decided to cave to Haymitch's cockeyed suggestion to order a bride in the first place. Peeta knew he couldn't run the bakery by himself forever. He needed a helper; both in the kitchen and in the rest of his life. Someone who wouldn't turn her nose up at a semi crippled baker or worse yet, look at him with pity as if he was less of a man for his injured leg. Most of all he needed someone who he didn't have to pay. A mail order wife seemed to check all those boxes. 

If Peeta was being honest with himself, he was also pretty lonely. 

While he had had his fair share of friends back home, here in the Capital there was far too much turnover to meet someone, (women of marrying age in particular) and become properly acquainted. Folks trickled in daily, always on route to bigger and brighter futures further west. The town was just a stopping point to change horses and replenish stock. Though the bakery had a steady stream of customers, never had the same person frequented his shop for more than a week.

It was why Peeta had taken to Haymitch Abernathy, a middle aged drunk who ran an illegal moonshine operation in his cellar. He was conviently located one door down from the bakery, and almost always home. At that precise moment Peeta was eternally grateful for this fact; he wouldn't have to venture far to yell at him. 

'Haymitch, what in the hell is wrong with you?!' he bellowed at the older man passed out in a wooden rocking chair. 

'Haymitch!!' The drunk startled and jumped to his feet, knife swinging in the air; forever ready to defend against anyone come to steal his precious swill. 

'What's all the yellin' for boy?' Haymitch scowled as he pocketed his knife and sat back down. 

Peeta waved the innocuous looking bill in his hand. 'For this Haymitch!! What were you thinking? No self respecting women would answer an ad like this?' 

'That's what the $10 reward I put on the bottom is for...' Haymitch replied already half alseep. 

It appeared Haymitch had been correct in his assumptions. Not a week later Peeta got an answering letter. It read as follows:

Name: Katniss Everdeen 

Require the $10 upon arrrival. 

Will be on the next stage in. 

Look for woman in a blue dress.


	2. First impressions

Palm's sweating and fingers twitching, Peeta stood and waited for the mid-morning stage to come in. As usual, it was already 10 minutes late.

He had to stop himself- once, twice, three times, from running his hand through his hair. In a fit of nervous stupidity he had doused it in pomade that morning- only somewhat successful in taming the mop of blonde curls on his head. 

Haymitch had laughed when he saw the slicked down mane and Peeta's Sunday best but insisted he come along to greet this mystery bride. It was the least he could do, afterall. 

'What if she doesn't like me, Haymitch?' Peeta suddenly rasped out, his eyes searching the horizon as a small dust cloud faintly appeared. A better question forming in his brain; 'What if he didn't like her?' A burning weight like hot coal pressed in his belly as the cloud morphed into the small dark shape of a stage coach moving rapidly toward them. 'This was it,' he thought. No time to change his mind. The justice of the peace had been notified and paid, and more importantly Peeta prided himself on being a man of his word. No matter who awaited him, by the end of the day Peeta would have himself a wife.

Haymitch offered him a fortifying drink from his pocket flask, which Peeta refused, just as the stage came to a stand still in front of them. 

Half a dozen dusty men in a mix of cowboy garb and ruppled business suits piled out of the buggy and for a minute Peeta was worried the woman hadn't come. But then a flash of blue tumbling over the other side of the wagon catches his eye. The driver handed down a small carpet bag to an unscene figure with a tip of his hat and a, 'there you go, Miss.' Peeta sucked in a breath as his intended bride came into view. A large straw bonnet obscured her face and oversized leather jacket swamped her frame so only the bottom half of a faded blue dress with a fraying hem was visible. 

For one horrifying moment all he can think is 'Damn it, Haymitch! My new wife is a child bride!'


	3. Mistaken Identity

'Well look'it what the cat dragged in!' Haymitch slurred and elbowed Peeta as the blue-clad girl came to stand before them. 

Haymitch swayed dangerously on his feet just then and Peeta reached to steady his arm, perhaps squeezing just a tad more than necessary as he felt his own face struggle to remain neutral. 

She was small, there was no debating the fact. Peeta guessed she barely came to his chest, and he was more of a stocky build himself- not particularly tall. Perhaps the coat that clearly belonging to a man didn't help the illusion. 

When she tipped her bonneted head up, Peeta was momentarily stunned by the cool grey eyes that peered up at him. He’d never seen a more beautiful pair in his life; deep and mystical, with a thick dark fringe of lashes that only added to their depth. She was definitely pretty- but her eyes made her gorgeous.

He tried to discreetly take in the rest of her. Her face was void of emotion, other than a twinge of a challenge in her eyes. What hair that escaped from her bonnet was jet-black and straight. He still couldn’t surmise how old she was- no less than 16 though that was still a far cry from his 28. She was also fairly tan. He looked down and noticed her lack of gloves; her hands were small, dark, and work-worn. What could she have been doing to get them that way? 

'Katniss Everdeen,' she said just then, with a curt dip of her head, 'you must be Mr. Mellark?' The scratchy guffaw that ripped from Haymitch had Peeta snapping back to her face. She had her chin tipped up now and such a steely gaze he wondered why he ever thought her tiny.

'No, Sweetheart, this here's your lucky groom,' Haymitch laughed again, swaying with the shove he gives Peeta.

She thought Haymitch was her future husband? The old drunk!

Peeta almost laughs himself until he watches her stare turn to a full on scowl as her eyes draw up and down his form. 

'I'll take my 10 dollars now, please.'


	4. No Turning Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from Katniss' perspective. I don't know if I'll switch back. We'll see how this goes. 
> 
> Thank you everyone who commented. I'm not in the habit of offering a reply but just know it's much appreciated!

She had been prepared for the worst. An unsightly cripple; a disfigured drunk; a fat, ill-tempered old man with stale breathe and a particular taste for bread. Who else would write such an ad? 

The ponchy, middle-aged man with rumpled clothes, reeking of booze and swaying on his feet seemed to fit the description well enough.

He wasn't all together repulsive, Katniss supposed. Under the scruffy beard and greasy, grown-out hair cut there was a hint of the handsome man that once existed in his youth. She wondered about the crippled part, maybe it wasn't alcohol that made him waver on his feet?

She set her face into a placid mask, surrendering her fate to this strange man.

Reality hit her like a slap in the face.

She had not been prepared for her new husband to be so downright, well, normal! With kind blue eyes and hair the colour of wheat in the sunshine; when he gave her a hesitant smile, revealing straight white teeth and a dimple on one cheek, Katniss had to bite her tongue to keep from cursing.

'This won't do at all,' Katniss thought, scowling, as her eyes took in the clean attire and muscled build of the young man.

She had been prepared to cook, clean, work her fingers to the bone. Had convinced herself she could put up with the odd beating or unwanted sexual abuse; content to die a martyr, knowing she suffered it all for the sake of her sister, Prim. He could be as ugly and cruel as he wanted and Katniss could be miserable, sullen, and hate his guts in return. That she could live with. 

The handsome man before her, Katniss simply could not accept! He would expect a happy wife; sweet, with soft hands and loving words to share his life and bare his children one day. He would want her heart, her soul, something she had not been prepared to give. 

A small, nagging voice appeared, whispering realities into the back of her head. She didn't have the funds to return home. Even if she did, how could she face her family? Her Aunt Effie, who had sacrificed half her own wardrobe, insisting that Katniss couldn't possibly meet her future husband wearing pants! Or Prim, whose hopeful eyes had bulged out as much as her ribs when Katniss read the advertisement-promising 3 weeks worth of wages and the possibility of bread.

No she had to do this.

'For Prim' Katniss silently vowed as she extended her brown palm expectantly up toward her soon-to-be groom.

To his credit, although Peeta seemed taken aback, sputtering and turning beet red, he still managed to pull out his wallet and hand her a pile of crumpled dollar bills.

'I need to wire this to my sister, then we get hitched.'


	5. It's a start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its been so long since I've updated. Covid 19, race riots, killer hornets, radioactive wild fires.. all that jazz.  
> This chapter is back to Peeta's perspective. I hope to post more frequently from now on, no promises though.  
> Enjoy.
> 
> .

Peeta had never felt so uncomfortable in all his life in the short walk to wire the ten dollars. Katniss, his almost-wife, walked at a fast clip-two steps ahead, chin raised and spine so ramrod straight he wondered if she ever took a breath. He felt his own odd sense of relief when the telegraph operator finally handed her a rough slip of paper in receipt and her shoulders visibly lowered as she exhaled.

She swished past Peeta out the door, some unknown emotion briefly flitting across her face; annoyance? pity? regret? He didn't know her well enough to guess. She had been such a whirlwind of mystery to him already; who was this tightly wound young girl and why was she so desperate to get his money to just send it away? If he expected an explanation he would be sorrily disappointed. Katniss was silent as he doggedly followed her almost halfway down the lane until she abruptly turned, Peeta tripping over this own feet not to walk into her. 

'We getting hitched or what?'

'Um, I-uh' Peeta stammered, his heart beating wildly in his ears under Katniss' steely gaze. 

'Go on Romeo, the Justice of the Peace is waiting for you and your blushing bride,' Haymitch chortled.

Peeta had nearly forgot Haymitch. He scratched his flushed neck and glanced between the two, praying Haymitch would take a hint and leave now. Peeta wouldn't need him as a witness, he had already asked the Justice's wife last week. Lucky too, given the daggers Katniss was currently staring at Haymitch. 

Peeta needed to take control of the situation, and fast. 

'Haymitch is right, its just up the street. That is of course unless you'd like to take a look around first, maybe get a bite to eat, unpack?' As he asks, he realizes what a chump he's been, having Katniss drag her own carpet bag around this whole time. 

'I could eat.' Her words are clipped but something in her tone is perceptively softer as Peeta gingerly pry's the bag from her hands. He breathes a sigh of relief when Katniss hesitantly takes his offered arm to lead her towards the bakery.

'Its a start' he thinks.

Haymitch is blessedly left behind when he stops to take a long dredge from his flask and is waylaid by a gaggle of geese crossing the street. 


	6. The Bakery

Katniss gingerly clutched Peeta's arm as he lead her to a medium sized, one story wooden building with "Mellarks Bakery" painted in elegant script on a board hanging over the doorway. Peeta guided her in ahead; a blast of hot air smelling of fresh bread and yeast engulfing her senses. It made her empty stomach twist with envy. When was the last time she had eaten something other than old hard-tack or moldy drop biscuits left over from the miners? Was it two days ago at breakfast when she had last eaten at all?

"Sorry about the heat. It can get pretty bad in the summer with the ovens running all day. That's why I built my quarters in the back instead of above," Peeta explains as he leads them, not to the counter but through a side hallway and to a second wooden door. 

"Here it is, uh...it's small, it's only been me living here but there's room to expand. We do have indoor plumbing. Most folks don't. I had to have the washroom specially built so I wouldn't have to trek through the snow with my bad leg in the winter time...' he trailed off then, raising his hand as if to run through his hair but stops himself midway. 

So that was what all the nonsense about liking bread and cripples had meant, Katniss jolts in realization; he's a baker! She can't help glancing down at Peeta's legs as he leads her into the room. They looked normal enough in his dark slacks. As he shuffles over to the four poster bed in the far corner to deposit her carpet bag, Katniss notices how he slightly favours the left. 

'Hmm' she hums distractedly while she glances around the rest of the place. It was just one room, with a pot belly stove, a table and two chairs making up the kitchen in one corner. Opposite the way they had come in was a door which must lead to the washroom Peeta had been blabbering on about. There wasn't much else too it other than a couple of shelves. The bed was separated from the rest of the house by a white sheet pulled over some rope that ran the length of the room. 

It was still easily twice the size of any home her and Prim had shared. For some reason this rather irked her.

Katniss scowled, seeming to cow Peeta who shuffled his feet nervously next to her. A charged, heavy silence hung between them. Her stomach chose that exact moment to echo loudly throughout the room. 

'Right - food!' Peeta laughed good naturedly. 'I hope you like cheese buns, baked them fresh this morning.'


	7. 21 in May

She's eats like she's been starved, Peeta thinks, sadly.

He knows because he's seen enough boney-stray animals beg for scraps at Haymitch's back door over the years. 

It's not that her table manners are lacking. Clearly someone had brought her up proper-like. Elbows off the table, arms primly by her side, small bites and she thankfully chewed with her mouth closed. No, it's in the the protective hunch of her shoulders, the urgency of her rough fingers, methodically plying pieces apart.There's a fear and perhaps a desperation in her cool grey eyes. She doesn't seem to even taste until three cheese buns in. This, her youth, her demand for payment; none of it sits well with Peeta. 

'Miss Everdeen- Katniss?' Peeta pauses, weighing the feeling of the foreign name on his tongue. She snaps her eyes up, dropping the last roll back on her plate and straightening in place. Peeta has to take a shaky breath, grimacing slightly when he finally asks, 'Do your folks know you're here?'

If looks could kill, her scowl would have struck him down where he sat. 

'My folks are dead.' 

Oh.

Peeta feels a bright red flush heating his neck. 

'I'm sorry, I-I didn't know,' he pauses trying to collect his warring thoughts. 'I just, I don't mean to offend you. I realize we don't know each other very well. But you seem awful young and...would you mind my asking how old you are?'

A pregnant pause followed. Katniss just stared. Peeta wished the ground would swallowed him whole. He hated confrontation but he needed to know.

'I'll be 21 this May. No one sent me here if that's what you're worried about. I came of my own free will. I hope you aren't trying to back out of our deal? '


	8. What you want

The cheese buns that had melted in her mouth a moment before now sat like bricks in her stomach. Prim had warned her not to be so prickly. What would she do if this man, Peeta, decided he didn't want to marry her after all? There was no way she could ask for the money back. Even if she could that would take days, and what would she do in the meantime? 

Another part of her bristles at the question about her age. Prim was already two inches taller at just eleven years old. Eating one meal a day for 3 years hadn't helped; robbing her of the few feminine curves she might have once possessed. Miss Cashmere had said as much when Gale had attempted selling her off to that filthy cat house.

'Why she's nothing but skin and bones! No man is going to pay for that. I don't have the time or money to fatten her up neither,' were her exact words. Gale had looked Katniss up and down himself for a moment before huffing and storming off. Her cousin may have been a real bastard but he was nothing if not pragmatic. 

She knew she wasn't much to look at, it still stung though. 

'I don't like to renege on my promises. I just need to make sure, this is what you want?' 

'I'm here, aren't I?' Katniss bites out. She internally chides herself. She's doing this for Prim. 

'Just let me freshen up and we can go, ' she tries again, softening her voice and giving what she hopes isn't too strained a smile.

Peeta still looks a tad hesitant when he nods and offers up his own tight smile in return.


	9. You May Kiss the Bride

The ceremony is simple and to the point. All too quickly their marriage license is signed and the Justice of the Peace is telling Peeta, 'He may now kiss the bride.'

Up until then Katniss had been seemingly indifferent. Reciting her vows in an emotionless tone, refusing to meet his gaze and instead staring down at the fraying white handkerchief knotted in her hands. 

When she wasn't snapping at him, Peeta noted her voice had an almost lyrical quality to it. He secretly wondered if she could sing.

At the ministers words, her head snapped up and her eyes visibly widened. 

For a short moment, Peeta couldn't help imagining a parallel world where the young woman's haunting grey orbs are blown wide in desire not panic. Perhaps his childhood sweetheart instead of an empathetic stranger brought in on the mid-morning stage. He wouldn't hesitate then to lean in and press a lingering kiss to her mouth; savor the pressure of her plush lips and taste her sweet breath with his tongue. 

Instead he places a chaste kiss on her cheek. Katniss emits what he thinks is a little exhale of relief, and suddenly they are man and wife! 

In a haze of disbelief, Peeta thanks the Justice and silently leads his new wife out the door and back down the street to his- now their, home.


	10. Newlyweds

'I guess I'll sleep on the floor,' Peeta mumbled to himself, as the newlyweds came to an uncomfortably stop at the foot of his bed some time later. 

'Why would you do that, we're married aren't we?' Katniss asks rather bluntly. 

'Yes, I just thought, since we don't know each other that well yet. Maybe it'd be best to wait a little while?' 

'What's the difference between then and now?'

Peeta himmed thoughtfully to himself, unsure how to answer such a question. He'd never bedded a women before. He was rather nervous at the whole prospect, especially with his bad leg and he didn't know how doing such an intimate act with a slightly hostile stranger would help matters. Then again, Katniss seemed so violently unopposed- callous really, about the whole matter, maybe he was making more of it than he should? 

A thought struck him then, perhaps she wasn't a virgin at all. She could even have been married before for all he knew. The enormity of what Peeta had done; tying himself to a complete unknown woman for life, struck him quite dumb. He sat down heavily on the bed, resisting the urge to run his fingers through his hair as a myriad of emotions threatened to bubble up out of him. 

'I suppose, um' he stammered out as Katniss stood impatiently by, arms crossed, a scowl marring her pretty face. 

She walked away before he could finish his thought, taking her carpet bag with her. Peeta heard the click of the door to his washroom and breathed heavily through his nose trying to calm himself down. 

It didn't work. Before he had time to reconsider, Peeta was up and bolting out the back door.


	11. Liquor and Horses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay. I'm hoping to update again shortly- don't want to keep you all in suspense. The next chapter will most likely be from Katniss' perspective. In the meantime, hope you enjoy!

Peeta didn't have a mind of where he was going until he found himself hobbling up Haymitch's back porch- judging my the number of empty bottles scattered about him, Haymitch was already thoroughly soused. 

Strangely enough, the old drunk didn't seem much surprised to find Peeta seated across from him, readily accepting a full bottle of clear liquor. A rare indulgence for the staid baker. 

'For my leg,' Peeta told himself more than Haymitch as he downed a sharp swallow of spirits. His leg truly was bothering him something fierce. He'd done more traipsing about town today than he usually did in a week. His calf muscle ached and Peeta could feel the blood pulse up his mangled shin bone each time with acute discomfort. His shot nerves and the lead in his gut certainly had nothing to do with his new-found insobriety. 

'Abandoning your bride so soon?' Haymitch chortled, interrupting Peeta's internal musings.

Peeta mirrored Haymitch; taking a swig from his bottle and swallowing it down with minimal choking on his part before he blurted out; 'Have you ever been with a woman, Haymitch?' 

Haymitch did choke then, spewing out a gulp of liquor, his eyes popping comically as much as they could in his inebriated state. 

'Don't tell me princess is going to be your first, boy? You're almost thirty years old, for crying out loud!' 

Peeta blushed, taking a long pull from his bottle as Haymitch howled. He found himself uncharacteristically frowning as the drunkard took an inordinate amount of time to gain control of himself. Both seemed to rally though as Peeta took another stiff drink. 

'I'm serious, Haymitch! Women back home didn't take to courting cowboys with bum legs. I've never had a sweetheart... You have to tell me what to do!' he implored. Then in a small voice, his face tipped down to his now half-empty bottle; 'I think she hates me.'

Haymitch seemed to sober some in the face of his friends despair. 

'She doesn't even know you, how can she hate you?' he rationalized. 'She's just a spitfire, that one. I know the type- all bite and sass until they learn there's no threat. You have to break her in gently.' 

A fog threatened to overtake Peeta's brain as he muddled through Haymitch's sage words, the liquid courage also pleasantly numbing his bad leg. 'Are you comparing my new wife to a horse?' he slurred. 

The drunk chortled as he reached an arm out to confiscate Peeta's near-empty bottle. 'Exactly. Just go slow and don't spook her.'

'Don't spook her, don't spook her,' Peeta chanted to himself sometime later as he limped off the porch and back to his own yard. He was proud to admit he only fell twice along the way, sending up a one arm salute to Haymitch each time to signal he was alright. 

Haymitch only raised his bottle in recognition. 

'Sweetheart's in for it tonight,' he cackled to himself before promptly passing out in his chair.


	12. Onion Suit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! 
> 
> I promise all wrongs will be righted in future chapters.  
> With that said, Enjoy!

Katniss scowled at her reflection in the little looking-glass over the washstand; tired eyes, sunken cheeks, collarbones jetting out from the rounded neck of her summer nightgown. 

At least she had bathed earlier that day and washed her hair. Her new husband, Peeta, would have to take her as she was. He was stuck with her now. 

She hoped he would get it over with quickly. 

Aunt Effie had warned her there would be some pain. First impressions weren't always reliable, but her bridegroom seemed respectful and kind; perhaps he'd be a gentle lover too. 

'And I always said Prim was the dreamer- ha,' Katniss scoffed to herself as she washed her face and unpinned the thick dark braid on her head so it fell to the middle of her back. When she emerged from the little bathroom she was surprised to find herself quite alone. 

'Perhaps it's better this way,' Katniss thought as she stowed her bag and slipped under the covers, she wasn't sure her nerves would hold with those big, blue cow-eyes upon her.

The sheets smelled thankfully clean- of soap and some vaguely familiar kitchen spice; cinnamon, perhaps. Katniss closed her eyes and lay very still, focusing on the welcoming scent and keeping her thoughts from racing. She could hear the ticking of a clock somewhere in the cabin. It chimed 8 o'clock and then 9. 

Katniss was beginning to wonder where her new husband might possibly be when she heard the rattle of the back door and heavy uneven footsteps. She tucked the sheets up to her chin and with bated breath, waited.

'Shit!' Peeta cursed from somewhere in the dark cabin as something heavy thudded against the floor. 'Damn-it!' another curse and this time Katniss was sure the loud scrape she heard had come from him walking into the table. 

'What in the devil is he doing?' 

If Katniss wasn't already equal parts terrified and annoyed it might be comical the way her groom came bumbling around the curtain just then with his shirt stuck half-way over his head and his pants shucked down to his ankles. Thank goodness he was still wearing his onion suit. 

Peeta plunked himself down on the side of the bed, just barely missing Katniss' feet and finally managed to pull his shirt all the way off. He yelped rather loudly when he turned and seemed to notice for the first time her presences in his bed. 

'Lor-dy!' Peeta hiccupped and it was then Katniss caught a strong whiff of alcohol staining his breath. 

'So this was it then. The handsome baker had a hankering for the bottle.' Katniss silently cursed, knowing her luck had finally run out. It served her right for being so optimistic. Her new husband seemed to be friends with the drunk from earlier, Haymitch, after all. Now she felt foolish for not seeing the signs. Gale had stumbled in often enough after a late night of drinking with the other miners; bumping into furniture and making a ruckus. 

Katniss braced herself for the yelling and throwing of things that would surely follow.

Peeta by now had gotten his pants off, turned, and was attempting rather awkwardly to climb into bed. His one leg dragged along the floor as he huffed a big breath and pushed himself forward with his forearms, which became trapped by his sides; his face inexplicably landing right onto Katniss' chest. 

'Ouch!' Katniss yelped as his hard jaw made contact with her boney sternum. 'Get off me, you big oaf!' she cried, not thinking about the possible repercussions of her hasty words. 

'Shhhhhh,' Peeta slurred as he lifted his head and seemed to find his arms to push himself up so he hovered over her, 'I'm trying not to spook you,' he murmured as he effectively trapped her in. 

Katniss held her breath, not daring to move or make a retort. Peeta's glazed eyes and lazy smile morphed to a look of concentration as he scooched his body over some more so his hips where aligned with hers. He was half hard already against her lower belly- the thin sheet and her nightgown acting as little barrier against his own warm body, blessedly still clad in long underwear.

'He called you a horse,' Peeta slurred in a tone one might call indignant, as he placed a sloppy kiss under her ear. Katniss closed her eyes and turned her head, trying to get as far away from the stench of booze and the overly hot press of his mouth as it traversed down her neck. 

'I'm glad you're not a horse... I think you're beautiful,' Peeta sighed as he palmed her small breast through her nightgown and thrusted haphazardly into her parted thighs. His mouth moved up from her throat to inexpertly claim her lips. The taste of liquor on his tongue was all Katniss could register as he grunted loudly and suddenly stilled over top of her. 

A damp patch grew between her legs in the sheets and Peeta huffed a great breath before rolling off of her. 

He was snoring before Katniss realized what had happened. 

'Oh hell,' Katniss whispered into the dark.


End file.
